


The Morning Jog Effect

by Desirae



Series: Love You For Always [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Horny husbands, If you're reading these guys, M/M, Sam Winchester Needs Brain Bleach, Shower Sex, The most in love husbands to ever be in love, you know;)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:13:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29073870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Desirae/pseuds/Desirae
Summary: Dean may be a sap, but there is nothing hotter than his husband after a Saturday morning jog.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Love You For Always [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1757716
Comments: 60
Kudos: 263





	The Morning Jog Effect

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, everyone! I missed these guys, I hope you did too! If not, lie and say you did:)  
> Any new readers to this verse, hello! Welcome, and thanks for reading!

Dean had said it before, and he would say it again; his husband was hot. And not in a subtle way. No, he was hot in an obvious, _I-wanna-ride-or-be-ridden-by-you-until-my-limbs-can’t-function_ way. Castiel Novak-Winchester was a gorgeous six-foot specimen of a man with strong runners thighs, and thick arms Dean could happily wrap himself in for all eternity. Castiel was, of course, fairly oblivious to the stir he caused when he walked by. If Dean were any good with words like his English professor hubby, he would write sonnets about Cas’ strong hands or his pillowy, pink lips. He would sing songs about his soft bedroom eyes that could range from summer’s sky to stormy ocean. His Castiel could tell a story with his arresting face, the cute crinkle of his nose, or a dominating arch of his brow. Whether sleepy, soft, and sensual, wearing boxers and Dean’s AC/DC teeshirt or in his classic tie, slacks, and trenchcoat, Castiel was a fucking _brilliant_ piece of eye candy and Dean was a lucky son of bitch to be married to him. 

It still knocked his breath from him sometimes. 

Dean watched as Castiel got out of the passenger side of Sam’s pick-up truck. His aviators were on, hiding his baby blues, and his dark hair was still fuck-me tousled from their pre-dawn love-making. Some people liked to stretch before jogging. Castiel liked to ride Dean, lazily, as the sun rose; sleepy and warm, Dean would lay back and watch the sunbeams on Cas’ golden skin, as he languidly rocked on Dean until they peaked and crested together, with his hand wrapped around Castiel’s cock as he pulsed deep inside of him.

Ever since they had moved to Sam and Jo’s neighborhood, another part of the Saturday routine-aside from brain-melting sex-was Sam becoming Cas’ new jogging partner. When they lived at the apartment, Castiel would just jog the blocks around their complex, but now, every Saturday morning, Castiel and Sam would take Sam’s truck the short drive to Wollaston beach and run along the two and a half-mile shoreline. Dean had gone a few times, but usually, he stayed home. Dean liked that Castiel and Sam had their own friendship separate from the three of them hanging out. Plus, Dean’s internal neat freak could come out and play with Cas out of the house. Something that tended to happen when he was stewing about something.

Dean leaned against the porch railing as Castiel and Sam continued to talk over the hood of the truck, each of them carrying what Dean recognized as takeout cups with the logo from The Magic Potion on them. The Magic Potion was this trendy new tea shop that specialized in herbal iced and hot teas and fruit and vegetable smoothies. It was located right near the local park, prime for passersby, much to Gabriel’s chagrin. The shop now occupied the vacant spot next to Wake and Bake, Gabriel’s bakery. Of course, he was all pissy about it because, as Gabe so eloquently put it: _“No one wants to throw away their diet on a maple bacon donut if they have the Scottish Juice Cleanse queen right next door, Dean-o.”_ The first time Gabriel had found out Castiel had gone there after a run, he didn’t speak to him for a week. The owner was Rowena Macleod, the hot redhead Charlie had hooked up with during the fourth of July party to add insult to injury. They were dating now, though Charlie insisted it was casual. She was still recovering from her breakup with Tessa.

“Quit your yapping. I made breakfast burritos,” Dean called out to them, and he grinned cheekily when Castiel raised an unimpressed brow. Dean wished he could see the glint he knew was in Cas’ eyes, hidden behind his glasses.

“I can only stay for a little bit, Jo has her final fitting today, and I promised to fill in at The Roadhouse until Garth can come in this evening.”

It was nearly the end of September, and Jo and Sam’s fall wedding was rapidly approaching. They’d decided on November 13th, an afternoon wedding. Dean was in charge of the bachelor party, which made Dean gleeful and Castiel stressed.

Castiel and Sam followed Dean into the house and to the kitchen. Sam sat on the bench seat, eagerly digging into the burrito in front of him, but Castiel followed Dean over to the sink where he was washing the dishes, and hooked a chin over Dean’s shoulder.

“Hey, Baby,” Castiel said, his arm coming around the front of Dean, a smoothie in his hand.

“It’s strawberry banana,” Castiel said; the deep rasp of his voice paired with his warm breath on Dean’s neck sent shivers down his spine. “Try it.”

Dean took the cup, cold with condensation, and twisted around so that he was facing his husband. The sunglasses were gone now, and his blue eyes shimmered playfully. Castiel caged him loosely against the sink. The simple grey teeshirt he wore was damp around the collar, and there was the healthy scent of sweat mingled with Cas’ usual apple and earthy fragrance. Dean knew if he were to lick a stripe up the hollow of Castiel’s throat, it would be salty and sun-warmed. To stop himself from doing so right in front of Sam, Dean sucked on his straw, humming appreciatively at the taste of strawberry and banana on his tongue. Castiel openly leered at him, as though reading his mind. _Asshole_.

“Hey, Dean? You think you can fit me in the shop sometime this week?” Sam asked, taking the last bite of his burrito. Meanwhile, Castiel had dropped his forehead to Dean’s chest, a silent invitation for Dean to massage his nape with his smoothie-free hand. Dean did so, gladly, fingers tangling in the damp, silky strands.

“Why, what’s wrong?”

“Not sure, but Cas’ said-”

“Something’s up with the suspension,” the words were muffled against Dean’s chest. “The truck is bouncing hard, and it’s making a knocking noise near the front wheel. I’m pretty sure the shocks and struts are worn, and there’s this squealing sound that could be the serpentine belt, but I’m not sure.”

Hearing Castiel’s gravel-laced voice recite poetry was heartbreakingly beautiful. Hearing him talk about car maintenance was like fucking porn.

“Christ, you’re so sexy,”

“Gross,” Sam whined as Castiel just looked up at Dean with a fond and sappy expression, lips curled up on a smile.

“Yeah?”

Dean licked his lips.”Yeah. Say serpentine belt again. It gets me excited,” Dean teased, and Castiel laughed, pushing Dean back against the counter again with his sweaty, toned body. With no shame whatsoever, Castiel licked his lips. “Serpentine belt,” he said salaciously and took Dean’s mouth in a deep, filthy kiss. It was slick and wet; the little suction noises as they sucked on each other’s lips and tongues were obscene, and soon, Dean was breathless, pulling back with a gasp.

“Sam, you might wanna-” Breathless, Dean started to tell his brother to leave, but the slamming of the front door let him know he’d already left and that the pair of them would no doubt be paying for it later. But as for now…

“Care to join me in the shower?” Castiel asked, coyly, as if it were even a question. 

But still, Dean teased: “You don’t wanna eat first?” 

Castiel glanced over his shoulder at the table with Sam’s empty plate and Dean and Castiel’s full ones and shrugged. “We can reheat. Come on, and I’ll tell you all about how I think he might need brake pads.”

Dean laughed, marveling at how Castiel could leave him so amused and turned on at the same time. Dean happily followed his husband into their bedroom, where they stripped down and padded into their ensuite bathroom. Their spacious shower was still a novelty, and Dean sighed in pleasure at the steady beat of the water pressure when Castiel got it going, hot and steaming. They took turns shampooing each other’s hair, fingers massaging each other’s scalps tenderly and sharing soft kisses under the spray. The desire from earlier was still there, just banked as they washed each other, slowly.

Now cleaned, Castiel sighed as Dean sealed their mouths together again. Dean was in love with how responsive Cas was, hands clutching Dean's shoulders as he devoured the taste of him, desperately. Soft little noises escaped Cas’ throat, pushing past the pressure of their clinging lips, and Dean was absolutely _weak_ for it. Dean pushed Cas back against the slick wall, straddling his thigh, and swallowed the gasp Castiel gave when his skin touched the coolness of the tiles.

“Cas?” Dean murmured against his husband’s lips. “I’m gonna blow you now.”

Castiel chuckled darkly, head falling back against the wall, and fuck, was he a sight. All flushed skin, lips delightfully red and kiss swollen, dark blue eyes sparkling with a heady combination of love and greed.

“Baby, if you’re waiting for me to fight you on this, you might as well just get on your knees,” Castiel commanded breathlessly, and Dean sank down without a word and took Cas’ considerable length and girth into his mouth, moaning at the clean, salty taste of him, familiar and welcoming. His tongue massaged the underside of Castiel’s cock as Dean suckled the head, drawing out coarse, broken groans from Castiel’s throat. Dean looked up, water spiking his lashes as his eyes met Cas’ heavy-lidded gaze. Dean felt Cas’ fingers grip his hair, and he gave a little nod, relaxing his throat for what was to come. That being Cas, thrusting in the wet heat of his mouth. Dean drew back and kissed the tip of Cas; cock, tongue twirling and running over the slit, coaxing out drops of precome, _teasing, teasing, teasing_ as Castiel whined, head tossing and turning against the wall. Dean’s mouth slid back down Cas’ cock, and he flattened his tongue against the base as he hummed.

Castiel rocked his hips, fingers still fisting Dean’s hair, the little tugs sharp and only heightening the desire curling in Dean’s belly. His own balls were drawn up tight, dick hard against his stomach and throbbing. Dean knew it would only take a few strokes for him to come and avoided the temptation of touching himself by trailing his fingers up the back of Castiel’s thighs until they reached his ass. Castiel spread his legs without urging, and Dean moaned again, a depraved sound that Castiel echoed when the vibrations sang down his cock. Dean’s fingers of his left hand delved between Castiel’s ass cheeks, brushing over his loose and puffy hole, gently; tapping and pressing at the rim in a way that had Castiel giving quick, shallow thrusts into Dean’s mouth. When Dean slipped a digit inside, Castiel gasped, thrusting forward, hard, and Dean swallowed, reflexively. A ragged groan clawed its way out of Castiel’s throat as without warning, he started to orgasm, powerfully. Dean continuously rubbed at Castiel’s prostate and found himself drinking more salty spend as Castiel’s body shuddered again, his whole body shaking like a leaf in a hurricane. Dean was hard as a rock as he finally let Cas’ cock slip from his lips and slid up his body. Castiel immediately looped an arm around Dean’s neck and one leg hooked around his waist, freehand coming between them to grip Dean’s dick firmly. Castiel kissed him greedily, tongue sweeping inside Dean’s mouth, seeking out his own. Cas’ thumb brushed over the wet head of Dean’s cock, and he whimpered against his lips. Castiel pulled back enough to look into Dean’s eyes, and Dean could see love, lust, and satisfaction blazing in their depths. Castiel dipped his head to the crook of Dean’s neck and sucked a bruise into the skin there as he began to jerk Dean off at a furious pace, bringing him to that perfect, delicious edge. 

When Castiel growled, “Come for me,” Dean barely had time to gasp before he did, nearly sobbing with the strength of it. 

Slowly, Castiel’s leg slipped down from around his waist, and Dean collapsed against him with a laugh. The water was no longer hot, but lukewarm, and Dean knew it wouldn’t be long until it became cold.

They left the shower on shaky legs, laughing at each other as they helped one another dry off. It wasn’t even noon, and Dean was already tired, so he didn’t protest when Castiel led Dean to their warm, comfy bed. He let himself be drawn into Cas’ arms, content to be the little spoon.

“So, I see you went on a cleaning jag while I was gone. Want to tell me what’s going on?” Castiel asked, voice scraped raw from his guttural cries, and Dean felt a little bit of pride at that, though he was sure his voice had faired no better. A fact confirmed when he answered, deep and husky.

“Noticed that, huh?” While Cas had been gone with Sam, Dean had slipped his sleep pants and teeshirt back on and gone through the house like a tornado; stripping and remaking the bed, vacuuming all the rooms, after dusting, of course, and he’d also given the kitchen floor a good washing. Aside from working on cars, mindlessly cleaning was good thinking time.

“The whole house smells like lemon pledge, so yes, I noticed,” Castiel’s voice rumbled against Dean’s ear, and he sighed.

“Bobby called. They’re letting my dad out early.” Castiel didn’t say anything, but he tightened his arms around Dean and pressed a kiss to his bare shoulder. “I haven’t told Sam yet. I asked Bobby to let me do it.” 

“I thought he wasn’t up for parole again until December?”

Dean snorted. “Something about overcrowding and good behavior.” He so wasn’t ready to deal with his dad. With any of it. 

“Thank you for telling me instead of hiding it from me,” Castiel said softly, and Dean turned his face enough so he could see Cas’ face, full of concern and love. 

“I think I know by now that I always rather face things with you than apart,” Dean admitted, closing his eyes when Castiel leaned in to kiss him, warm and sweet.

“I love you, baby. We’ll figure it out,” Castiel promised, and Dean knew they would. But for now, he let himself be held in his husband’s arms, content to lazily drift the afternoon away.

“I love you, too,” Dean slurred.

A few minutes later: "Someone has to pack the burritos up."

" _Someone_ just received a spectacular blow job."

Castiel huffed, and Dean smiled into his pillow when the bed shifted, signaling Cas was getting up. Of course, as soon as he left, Dean couldn't fall sleep.

Dean stepped into the kitchen, watching as Castiel preheated the oven. Cas turned, and caught Dean staring.

"I came in here and realized I was starving," Castiel laughed and sank onto the bench seat, shivering. "Cold. No nap?"

"Missed you," Dean said, sheepishly, the fond look he received worth the embarrassment. 

"Sap."

As Dean walked over, settling himself on Cas' bare thighs, waiting for the oven to beep, Dean figured there were worse things he could be than a sap.

"Yeah," Dean said, smooshing a loud kiss to Cas' cheek. "You know you love it." Dean wiggled in Cas' lap. "No one told me we were doing naked Saturday."

“Baby, every Saturday is naked Saturday with you,” Castiel said, laughing, and yeah, Dean was totally okay with that, too.

  
  


The end


End file.
